


Community Theater

by Apharine



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Dating, F/M, Fluff, Julian's a thespian, Team as Family, and he's not gonna miss an opportunity to star in a play now that he's a free man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26721637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apharine/pseuds/Apharine
Summary: With Julian's name cleared, the world is, once again, his oyster.  He's pretty excited about that - but even more excited when he realizes this means he can star as an actor on stage again.  Now if only he can rope his girlfriend, Lake, into joining him, things will be just perfect.
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak
Kudos: 2





	Community Theater

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!! This was written for a friend of mine over on Tumblr (who wishes to stay anonymous, but who's OK with me posting the work because it's cute and fluffy and someone might enjoy it!). Lake is her OC and belongs completely to her!

Walking down the street with Julian still felt a bit nerve-wracking for Lake. It was odd, somehow, to be out in the middle of the streets of Vesuvia, flitting through the market place, no longer having to check over their shoulders or skulk along dark alleys.

But it would become normal soon enough, Lake reminds herself. Julian had become a free man in the eyes of the law. And he had more than earned his freedom, not only clearing his name but nearly sacrificing himself in the process. He should be a hero to every guard and vendor in the Marketplace.

“After we stop by the pet stall and get food for Pepi and Malak, would you want to stop by that Prakran fabric dealer’s stall again?” Julian grins down at Lake, his eyes sparkling. “I know you had your eye on that lovely pink fabric you couldn’t put down last time…”

Lake smiles to herself, unable to stop imagining how lovely the cloth had been in her fingers.

“He was charging an awful lot per yard,” she muses aloud, as if trying to convince herself that she didn’t need it.

“Hey,” Julian hums, drawing close to her and putting one arm around her waist. “Let me cover the bill for you, okay? If money’s the issue, I don’t want it to stop you from getting something you’ll love and use.” He brandishes a couple flashy gold coins in his free hand, waggling his eyebrows playfully as he smirks down at Lake.

Unfortunately for him, he’s tried that trick once.

“Julian!” Lake exclaims, half torn between being highly amused at his antics and absolutely horrified. “You can’t just go spending fake coins _again_ -”

“It worked the first time I did it with you,” he protests, his grin growing. “And all the times before that, too.” Lake can’t help but smile at him, though she shakes her head, trying her best to keep her voice firm.

“You are a free man now, and the last thing we need is you going back to jail for _fraud_ over a few yards of fabric,” she insists. Julian only winks at her wordlessly and lets go of her waist, though he stays close to her as they move through the crowd.

“The key is -” he starts, then trails off as something catches his attention.

“Not getting caught?” Lake supplies, and she’s aware that the way she deadpans the words sounds a bit like Portia. But Julian isn’t really listening; he drifts over to a poster on the side of a fruit stall, and Lake follows him, curious to see what’s caught his attention. There’s a picture of three people on a stage in costume (is one of them dressed up as Lucio? The picture is a little small, so it’s hard for Lake to tell), and underneath it is large, eye-catching text.

_The Vesuvian Community Theater_

_Thespians, seamstresses and seamsters, backdrop artists, and stage-hands alike, your time to shine is here!_

_Come join us for our reproduction of The Bard of Avon! Auditions are to be read on Thursday the 19th; sign ups available in the theater! Bring your own monologue or use one of ours!_

_Flexible participation schedule available for non-acting roles!_

_We’d love to see you!_

Julian’s eyes are shimmering with unrestrained joy as he finishes reading the poster.

“This is amazing! The Bard of Avon is one of my favorite plays! It’s a brilliant comedy - and who better to play the Bard than me?” Julian grins, puffing his chest up a little.

“I don’t know, Julian,” Lake laughs. “You strike me more as suited for a tragic hero.”

“Ah-ah,” Julian tuts. “I have changed my ways. Not everything has to be about self-sacrifice anymore.” He turns back to the poster, one hand on his chin. “Hmm, the 19th…that’s only a week away. I should stop in and see if there are any audition slots left. I know the _perfect_ monologue to use.” He pauses a moment, then turns back to Lake, his eyes lighting up. “Y’know, this could become a…couples thing for us.”

“Couples thing?” Lake repeats blankly.

“Yeah. They said right up here they need people to sew. You’d be brilliant in the costume department,” Julian beams.

Lake’s face flushes at the thought. 

“You think so?” She asks, feeling a nervous but excited fluttering in her stomach. “Well…it could be fun.”

“Would you want to stop by the theater with me?” Julian asks, his excitement obviously growing. Lake smiles, and nods.

“Sure,” she agrees, and a moment later, Julian’s arm loops through hers and he whisks her through the crowd, setting off for the theater at a jaunty pace.

* * *

While Julian is chatting it up with the man who is to be the Bard of Avon’s stage director, Lake drifts over to a section of the backstage where people are rummaging through heavy trunks, pulling out costumes and sorting them by some unknowable method into different piles.

“Um, hi,” she says, stopping short of the small group.

“Hello, dear,” a woman with a brilliantly-colored headscarf says, pulling an enormously puffy purple dress from a trunk and throwing it in one pile. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I, uh, sew, and I was interested in seeing if maybe I could help in your upcoming production,” Lake explains.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” The woman says, standing and brushing the front of her outfit off of dust and spare threads. “My name is Saryn. I’m the head of the costume department,” she smiles, moving over to Lake with one hand extended. Lake shakes her hand amiably, feeling a little more at ease by this lady’s friendly demeanor.

“I’m Lake,” she returns, smiling a little.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Now, you’ll have to forgive our current messy state,” Saryn says apologetically, gesturing at the scene before them. “We haven’t put on the Bard of Avon for about five years, and the costume director at the time didn’t believe in sorting our outfits in any meaningful way. As a result, everything from all our old plays is just kind of…mushed together.” She frowns a little at the mess, picking up the enormously puffy purple dress she’d just dropped into a pile and holding it at arm’s length.

This close, Lake can see it’s actually absolutely _gorgeous_. The bodice is made of what looks like dyed leather, tapered with the most perfect princess seams. The skirt of the dress is multi-layered, with the top layer embroidered with a lavender thread. A light tulle has been sewn into puffed sleeves that gather at the mid-arm.

Lake feels herself cringe a little. Tulle could be the _worst_ to work with.

“I’m pretty sure this was from The Lanterns of Nevivon,” Saryn murmurs to herself. “Come - let me show you the costumes we _have_ found so far, and you can tell me a little about your strengths as a seamstress.”

“Okay,” Lake agrees as Saryn puts the purple dress into a different pile than the one she’d selected originally. “Well, I sew as a hobby, so I guess I don’t usually do anything too fancy,” Lake begins, falling into step behind the woman, who begins to lead her across the floor. “I’m pretty confident in my darting, pleating, and pinning. I usually work from a pattern, but I’ve done a couple pieces where I’ve made the pattern myself. Oh, and and I’m good at tailoring. Have to be, when my boyfriend has such long but thin legs,” she laughs to herself, gesturing at Julian, who’s still chatting animatedly with the stage director.

“Oh, I can imagine,” Saryn laughs. “You sound like you have a good skill base. We here in the Community Theater especially need people with confidence in their tailoring skills. Many of these pieces will have to be taken up or in or let out, depending on who ends up being cast,” she says, gesturing to about a half-dozen mannequins. All of them are dressed in different costumes actually meant for the Bard of Avon.

And all of them are at least as stunning as the purple dress Lake had seen earlier. Her mouth falls open a little as she goes to inspect the closest outfitted mannequin. There’s a gorgeous doublet with what looks like extremely fine Prakran beadwork embroidery, fitted over a silk shirt.

“That’s for the male lead, the Bard,” Saryn explains. Lake tries not to sweat out the beadwork too much, though, instead drifting over to the next mannequin, which has a corseted green dress with an enormous bustle and train attached. The style is completely foreign, likely from a different country and era entirely, though she can’t quite place it. Lake swallows hard; she was confident in her pleats, but that didn’t mean she had the slightest clue how to create - or work around - this much volume in a dress…especially one made with sewing techniques unknown to her. “And that’s for the second female lead. We haven’t found the first female lead’s costume yet,” Saryn admits. Lake touches the fabric to see if there’s a crinoline underneath; to her relief, there is.

Saryn takes her quickly through the remaining costumes, finally ending with,

“I know it probably seems like a lot, but these costumes have been a mutual labor of love created by many talented hands over the 30 plus years we’ve been running. Everyone teaches everyone here. That’s how we wind up with such brilliant pieces - so don’t be intimidated. We won’t ever ask you to work on something without helping you make sure you know how to do it,” Saryn says gently, probably catching the nervous look in Lake’s eye. Lake chuckles anxiously.

“Well, that’s, uh, that’s good to know.”

“If you’re interested in joining, come on back when you boyfriend auditions. The whole costume department plus our new recruits will be there, so you can meet everyone, and we’ll have a meeting to flesh out our roles and plans for the season,” Saryn offers. Across the floor, Lake notices Julian finishing up with the stage director; he’s beaming as he shakes his hand and turns away. “We’re very flexible about how many hours you commit to per week, so please, don’t feel as if it has to be an enormous undertaking. I’d love to see you back,” Saryn adds, then touches Lake’s shoulder gently. Lake smiles.

“Thank you, Saryn. I really appreciate your time. You might just see me on the 19th,” she adds, though internally, she’s panicking and already wondering how she’s going to tell Julian that she absolutely cannot come back to the Theater under any circumstances whatsoever.

There’s no way _any_ of this costume work is remotely within her league.


End file.
